


Phrensis

by therealaisabelle



Series: Haikyuu Greek Myth AU [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Addiction but literally to Daishou, Angst, Blood and Violence, Creampie, Demigod Kuroo Tetsurou, F/M, Idk why I went off with this fic but I did so, Katana's and Shit, Kuroo is highkey a badass I guess, Murder, No beta we die like julius caesar, Past Abuse, Reader is married to Kuroo, Shower Sex, Smut, Wild as hell., past toxic relationship, please mind the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:26:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28016940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealaisabelle/pseuds/therealaisabelle
Summary: Kuroo Tetsuro as a walking, talking drug.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou & Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou/You
Series: Haikyuu Greek Myth AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036179
Comments: 7
Kudos: 82





	Phrensis

**Author's Note:**

> THIS WAS THE HARDEST SHIT TO WRITE EVER I-  
> Here, have this like I didn't cry over how I couldn't find the right words to describe what my mind created. HATE IT HERE.  
> I kept reading this over cause I felt like there were plot holes? But I'm tired, fuck, and I cannot stress this enough, the plot holes.
> 
> Anyway, I love you and so on and what not and I hope you're taking care of yourself <333

The advantages of being Kuroo Tetsuro’s wife included: having the last name Kuroo, complimentary Kodzuken merch, Bokuto Koutaro, his love and affection, his brothers, and the sex. Things to look forward to as Kuroo Tetsuro’s wife: the vacations, the late-night adventures, the impromptu business lessons.

The disadvantages of being Kuroo Tetsuro’s wife included: Bokuto Koutaro, and his personal assistant- Kai Armato. Things you did not look forward to as Kuroo Tetsuro’s wife: the business trips, the long workdays, the SOS texts from his personal assistant.

Kai Armato hated your guts. A descendant of the gorgon Medusa, he was a firm believer in the purity of the Ancient Greek bloodline, you, a measly human woman, were not suitable for the descendant of one of his gods. He was also in love with your husband, it was glaringly obvious. Of course, Tetsu thought you were being dramatic, Kai claimed to have a girlfriend- one, neither of you had met despite him being an employee for over two years. He showed up to events with no plus one and kept mostly to himself. Not to mention he was phenomenal at his job. Kuroo was always praising him for his thorough work and initiative.

As much as he did not like you, he was forced to respect that you were the only person who could keep his boss from doing… _ **unsavory**_ things. You were halfway to the Japan Volleyball Association building, driving entirely too fast for your own good when your phone went off again; an SOS from Kai meant trouble on the home front. Kuroo was an amazing leader, charismatic and attentive, trustworthy, hardworking, fucking determined, and never satisfied with anything other than perfection. His employees loved him. Naturally, you think as you swing recklessly into the parking spot, a vast majority also didn’t know who he really was, and for good reason.

Kai was standing out front with other employees and if that wasn’t an issue in itself the shattering of glass from above freezes you to the sidewalk.

“What the fuck is happening?” You ask a trembling Kai.

“I- We…we don’t know what set him off,” He stutters. “The brand meeting, they’re not-”, his voice drops to a whisper, “-they’re not human Kuroo-San.” It dissolves into a whisper at the end and your heart sinks. You didn’t know there was a brand meeting today and ordinarily, this would be no reason to panic but, from the way Kai was shaking and the way the other employees were looking at you, you figure something went terribly wrong.

Where the fuck was security?

“Okay,” You glance at the rest of the employees. “Do they have any idea what’s going on? Is the entire building evacuated? Do they have their things?”

Kai nods at you. “Is he gonna be okay?” He asks.

“No,” You answer seriously. “I’m going to fucking kill him. Have you called Kenma?” Kai shakes his head, eyes wide. “Good. The workday is over, pass on the message, and leave.” Kai’s eyes narrow. “I mean it, get off the property.”

You leave him on the sidewalk and push the doors to the building open. It’s deceptively quiet, and when the scent of wisteria hits you when you step off the elevator to the first floor you have to stop and prop yourself up on the wall. It’s suffocating, invading your lungs and making you gag. Your eyes are watering so badly that you can barely make out the door to the conference room at the end of the hall but it’s not silent on this floor. You can hear grunting, and things being broken…you’re certain there’s growling in there somewhere and that…that makes your heart rate speed up.

You stumble to the doors and pause. Whoever is in there with him has definitely succumbed to the Bloodlust and you know that you have to be prepared for chaos. You move to open the door and pause when the sound of rumbling fills your ears. You’re only given a split second to brace yourself when the entire building shakes violently. You yelp as you’re pitched into the door face first. The wisteria gets so strong that you can feel vomit creep up your throat. Gods, Kuroo was a dead fucking man.

When the shaking stops you take a deep breath, this is the cleanest air you’ll be able to breathe until you can get your husband under control. Your hands are shaking when you push open the doors and take in the room. You realize that Kai had undersupplied information, this wasn’t a regular brand meeting, the entirety of Japan’s Men’s Volleyball Team was in attendance. You freeze when an annoyingly familiar laugh reaches your ears.

Through the red haze that clouds the room you could barely make out shapes, but one stands out above the rest. Sitting at the head of the table legs propped up, crossed at the ankles, and reclining comfortably, is the center of it all, your husband. On his left Yaku Morisuke is grinning manically and at the sound of the doors being slammed shut behind you, they both look up and Kuroo locks eyes with you. 

Kuroo’s Bloodlust manifests itself in the form of hundreds or thousands of tiny, red spider lilies, that fill any space they’re exposed to. They’re not solid, and their gaseous form makes it much easier to permeate the body, they slip into your mouth and ears and nose and when it dissolves into your bloodstream…well, madness ensues.

The poetic thing about Bloodlust is that it doesn’t affect humans the same way it affects Demigods or really any descendant of the Ancient Greek bloodline. Humans experience vertigo, they may blackout and feel lethargic for a while afterward but, there are no serious side effects. Ares’ children flourish in the presence of Bloodlust, they become hyper-focused on the negative energy produced by others, it makes them…dangerous. As far as you knew, the other Demigods became aggressive, nearly unstoppable forces of nature.

You let out a slow breath as the smirk on Kuroo’s face falters. You can see even from this end of the room that he’s high off his ass, drunk from the chaos, the energy, the Bloodlust being fed back to him. Your eyes narrow when he shifts to put his feet down from the desk. There’s grunting and cursing around you and you move to take a step forward when a growl sounds from your right. The red haze of spider lilies is so thick that you don’t know who is where except for Kuroo and you know there should only be two people in this meeting who can growl like that.

Kageyama Tobio’s black panther form takes a step closer to you and your eyes widen, not moving from Kuroo’s. You watch from your peripheral as the massive cat regards you, blue eyes glint dangerously through the haze, and your knees quake when it’s head cocks to the side. There’s a snarl from next to him and then a cheetah you recognize as Hinata Shouyo is crashing into his side. Your heart jumps when they collide with the closed door behind you. 

You can see Kuroo trying to reel in the Bloodlust for your sake, the spider lilies swirl around you and you feel your head go light as the scent of wisteria evaporates quickly. The haze thins enough for you to see the glow of Sakusa Kiyoomi’s palm where it’s wrapped around Miya Atsumu’s throat behind Kuroo. Sakusa looks terrifying, nothing like the usually anxious man you knew him to be, his mask is gone, and his curls are wild, his lips are curled into a snarl as he glares down at Atsumu. He squeezes harshly and by the way, Atsumu is clawing at Sakusa’s forearm you know he is going to have Sakusa’s handprint burnt into his neck.

“Tetsu,” You wheeze. “They’re killing each other.”

The ground shakes once more and you stumble forward to prop yourself up on the nearest surface, it’s a chair, the cushion has been shredded and it’s missing a leg. Your mouth falls open when Ushijima Wakatoshi is flung across the room, disrupting the cloud of red flowers, and bounces into the glass window before slumping to the floor. The impact cracks the glass, and you turn wide eyes to Iwaizumi Hajime who’s glaring at the slumped form, he moves toward the man and you act without thinking, scampering to stand in between them your arms spread wide. You don’t know what you can do against the athletic trainer on a regular day but, you assume it’s far less on a day like today when the blue trident of Poseidon is glowing on the surface of his left eye.

“Iwaizumi-San, he’s unconscious,” You try to reason.

Iwaizumi obviously doesn’t care about that, you don’t even think he’s heard you and you gulp when he doesn’t stop moving forward, forcing you to take a step back. 

“Tetsuro!” You yell when the rumbling starts again. “Tetsu!”

Kuroo is struggling and you’re torn between helping him and protecting Ushijima when you feel arms lift you from behind and move you out of the way.

“Snap Kuroo out of it,” Ushijima’s voice washes over you and your muscles relax when you realize he’s not affected by Kuroo’s Bloodlust. The perks of being a descendant of Zeus your mind supplies. “I can handle Iwaizumi.” He doesn’t look at you, just stalks toward the trainer. His movements jar you out of your frozen state and you scramble over to where Kuroo is swaying lightly on his feet. You move to grasp his face in between your hands but his eyes are half-lidded, the golden helmet of Ares is still visible on the surface even with his eyes near closed. You get the feeling he’s barely conscious. His arms twitch at his sides where they’re hung limply.

“Tetsu,” You whisper. You give his face a gentle slap and he twitches again. “Tetsuro,” You repeat and when he remains unresponsive you turn to the person next to him.

“Morisuke,” You address his brother because he’s the only other person in the room who might be willing to help. The outline of the helmet is even more pronounced in Yaku’s eye and you swallow around the fear that lodges in your throat as his smile. “I know, you’re probably not even here-” you say, “-but I need your help.”

Yaku chuckles. “Look around you,” He intones, his voice is a little distorted, rougher than usual. He motions with his hand to Bokuto Koutaro who is poised over Aran Ojiro, fist raised, “this is beautiful.” You watch goosebumps erupt across his arms and up to his neck as he sighs his next words, “It takes a lot of Bloodlust to influence the children of the goddess of war.”

You stiffen when Kuroo collapses against you and you’re forced to let him go because of his weight, Yaku locks eyes with you when you kneel at your husband’s side. He’s right you realize. If anyone should be able to help you right now it's Bokuto, but when a loud crack echoes from their direction you wince because he’s clearly out of it also. Yaku would be of no help. 

A thud sounds in front of you and you glance up just as Atsumu sinks to his knees also, hand wrapped loosely around his throat as he gasps for air. He’s somehow managed to knock Sakusa out and you heave a sigh of relief.

Kuroo’s body spasms in your hold and the Bloodlust in the room swirls above him. He groans and you watch as the spider lilies are absorbed into his body. A single red spider lily settles in Yaku’s outstretched palm and you watch him frown before his eyes disappear into the back of his head and he sinks forward forehead falling onto the broken table with a soft thunk.

The last dregs filter through Kuroo’s pores, and the entire room stills. You don’t look up from Kuroo’s relaxed face when the sound of hissing fills the room, or when there’s glowing. Someone moves to get close to you and stretch your arm out to stop them.

“What the fuck happened?” You ask.

“Daishou Suguru,” Bokuto rasps. Your head snaps up to meet his eyes. One is swollen and blue-black, the other sports a cut over the brow, that’s bleeding lightly, his hair has fallen from its usual style and he’s panting. “I don’t know who let him in but…”

“Komori,” Atsumu wheezes. “Need yer help over here.” Atsumu’s moved to sit on his ass. The skin of his neck is properly burnt in the shape of Sakusa’s hand, the fingers wrap around either side of his throat, and yet he’s motioning to Aran who Bokuto knocked out.

“Why…it’s been years,” You stress. “ _Years_ …what did he say?” You glance around the room and don’t spot your ex’s unconscious body anywhere. Hoshiumi is passed out under the table. Hyakuzawa and Hakuba are out, heads rested against the desk and you’re suddenly really fucking happy those three aren’t part of the Greek Pantheon. You imagine people the size of Gao and Yuudai would be an issue to deal with in situations like these and Hoshiumi’s hostility could be…problematic when enhanced by Bloodlust. “Where is he?” You release Kuroo’s head and stand to your feet. “Did he escape?”

You spot Kageyama who’s supporting a heavily bleeding Hinata. Hinata’s right leg is hanging limply from below the knee and bent at an odd angle, it makes you freeze. The room is a disaster. Chairs have been broken, the projector is barely hanging on by its wires, there are deep claw marks on the walls, one side of the entrance door is broken, only attached by the bottom hinges, and leaning backward out of the room. The flowerpot that usually rested on the side table is broken, dirt is scattered across the floor and the plant is…dead, for sure. The side table is missing legs and lays on its side near the windows. Water bottles are strewn everywhere, the glass in the middle of the table has shattered and you wince when the pieces crunch underfoot.

Now wasn’t the time for dealing with Daishou you decide; Kuroo’s friends…well, his family, were banged up. You could deal with Daishou afterward. Ushijima takes Hinata from Kageyama when the latter stumbles himself. He has a bite mark on his side, and you don’t even register that he’s naked until Iwaizumi is helping him lay on the table.

Komori crawls toward Atsumu on his hands and knees, and you watch in amazement as he spreads a palm out over Aran’s chest and wraps the other over Atsumu’s throat. There’s no glowing like you expect, but by the way, Atsumu’s skin sizzles you know he’s doing _something._ Bokuto squats to lift Kuroo.

“You should call Kenma,” He suggests. 

You do, and an uncharacteristically awake Kenma comes barging into the door fifteen minutes later. You all turn to watch as the bottom hinges give out and the door clatters as it falls. You don’t think about how he lives forty-five minutes away from the JVA because you’re busy listening to Iwaizumi’s instructions on how to set a dislocated shoulder, so you can set his. You learn many things in the two hours that follow.

Komori has a limit being the first, and Sakusa is his virtual battery the second. You also learn that Atsumu can summon his twin…you imagine it must be a pain in the ass for Osamu. You learn from Aran that children of Hades aren’t necessarily influenced by Bloodlust, but the idea that people will die from it makes them iffy about intervening. You stare at him for a long time after he admits this because it sounded a little too suicidal for your liking. 

Bokuto is fucking brilliant and can craft anything out of wood, glass, or metal. Kageyama is unfairly Blessed by Artemis and doesn’t even need healing, you watch Hinata’s teeth marks stitch themselves together with your own two eyes. Ushijima’s prayers get… _answered_. A single phrase is muttered, and you watch with bated breath as Shouyo’s breathing regulates. The bone in his leg snaps without being touched and several groans are heard, he screams when the bone is adjusted, and then he blacks out.

At the end of the two hours, Daichi Sawamura shows up, in his police uniform, takes one look at the broken tables and chairs, the shattered projector hanging from the ceiling, the spider web crack on the reinforced glass window where Ushijima had been thrown into it and his shoulders droop.

You sit where Tetsuro is twitching on the table, with his head in your palms and you wait. As much as you would like for someone to tell you what’s happening to Kuroo, you know he’d prefer if his mess was dealt with first.

Hoshiumi, Hyakuzawa, and Habuka are carried out and taken to Tetsuro’s office where paramedics check them over. Yaku doesn’t regain consciousness but he’s in better health than Tetsu and you can see by the subtle expanding and contracting of Kenma’s pupils that he’s already begun to formulate a cover story to explain the situation. You sit quietly until a paramedic approaches you. There’s a mark on the inside of their palm. A simple wreath that lets you know they’re a part of this community and you realize that all the paramedics probably are.

“Kuroo-San?” She asks. “Are you alright? Did anyone check up on y-”

“Check Tetsu first,” You interrupt. “There was…there was a lot and I-” you gulp, “-I’ve never seen him absorb that much.”

She blinks at you and you watch as she removes her gloves. She reaches for him and you tense. “Part Phoenix,” She says. “I’m not going to hurt him. I’m just going to see if something is wrong.” 

You let Tetsuro’s head go and she passes her hand over his head. She freezes and you tense when she snatches her hand away.

“Hatred,” She whispers. “He’ll be fine-” she clears her throat, “-he just needs to rest.”

Iwaizumi, who’d been listening from behind the paramedic speaks up then. “How long will he be out for?”

“Most of the day, Iwaizumi-San.”

“Thank you,” He says, and she shuffles away from you two. “I’ve never seen him like this,” Iwaizumi says. “When he comes to, let him know I’m not mad at him,” He gestures to everyone else in the room, some of whose eyes are trained worriedly on his unconscious form. “None of us are.”

Bokuto and Atsumu nod where they’re standing next to each other. Kageyama shrugs nonchalantly. “I’d be a lot worse after the things Daishou said,” He scoffs. That makes you straighten up.

“What…what’d he say?” The tension in the room climbs to insurmountable levels and your skin prickles as they look away from you. Osamu tilts his head up at Atsumu and Atsumu gives a curt shake of his head. Kenma narrows his eyes at Bokuto and you know by the sharp glint that Kenma will be hearing about it later.

“You don’t want to know Kuroo-San,” Kageyama responds. You swallow and Iwaizumi sits in the chair next to yours. 

“Listen to me,” He says. His arm is bandaged, and he winces when he knocks it against the side of the table. “He didn’t mean to, Daishou’s a dick, you _know_ he’s a dick.” Iwaizumi stresses. “Only Daishou can get him this riled up, Daichi’s gonna find him and if Bokuto doesn’t get there first I’m gonna break his fucking face…” Iwaizumi trails off. “Kuroo’s Bloodlust went off too fast for us to stop Daishou. They know…they heard what he did to you.”

You swivel to look at him and the sadness there makes you wince. You need air you decide. You turn to Kenma and he nods before you can say anything and the next time you breathe it’s the stale air of Tokyo. You’re seated on the roof of the JVA and you can’t even appreciate the view because this is all your fucking fault. 

Whelp! There goes your reputation for being able to ground him.

You’d never seen anything like what you’d just witnessed. You knew they were Demigods but seeing some of them in action for the first time was… _terrifying_. You didn’t know Sakusa could hurt people like that, you’d never seen Kageyama or Shouyo as anything other than birds, and Yaku’s smile will be burnt into your memory for the rest of your life. 

Your phone goes off and it’s Kai asking if everything is okay. You glare at the phone as you type out a curt yes. You’d be having words with him about how Daishou got in later. 

For now, though? You had a husband to take care of and possibly console. 

**************************************

When Kuroo’s eyes open his vision no longer swims with red spider lilies and he no longer wants to drag Daishou Suguru’s face through hot coals or nail him to a cross by his hands and feet, well, he does but, it’s not at the forefront of his mind.

There is no sound except for the whirring of the air conditioner.

He glances up into the mirror on the ceiling and notes that he’s no longer in the suit he left in this morning, instead he’s in sleep pants and a t-shirt. He assumes Kenma helped you get him changed. He doesn’t know what time it is, but the sun seems to be going down based on the way the rays cast you in a golden halo. 

You’re glowing where you’re curled up next to him, your hands are wrapped around his arm and your faced is pressed against his shoulder. Your mouth is parted so that each of your exhales penetrates the fabric of his shirt. One leg is bent at the knee and thrown over his waist, and your- _his-_ shirt, has ridden up to expose the red cotton that covers the flesh of your ass. He smiles up at the reflection. You shift, squeezing his arm reflexively and Kuroo blinks, the smile vanishing.

Kuroo feels disgusting. He closes his eyes in hopes that he can go back to this morning when you asked him to stay home from work. He wishes he had. He pries himself away from you gently and his heart clenches when you roll into the spot, he previously occupied.

He strips on the way to the bathroom and steps under the freezing water. He doesn’t know how long he stands there with his forehead leaned against the wall as the water cascades down his back. He can’t get the image of Daishou’s satisfied grin out of his head, or the sounds of shouting and growling and the scent of blood. 

_**“…she even cum?”** _

**_“…favorite whore…”_ **

**_“Does she moan my name?”_ **

**_“…panic attacks…”_ **

**_“…pathetic…”_ **

**_“…slut…”_ **

**_“…killed her…”_ **

**_“…sloppy seconds…”_ **

**_“She really was my most disciplined pet.”_ **

Kuroo’s head is swimming with Daishou’s words. Before he knows it the shower is filled with little red spider lilies and he has to take a deep breath to rein in his Bloodlust. He’s so focused on calming down that he jumps when hands wrap around his body from behind.

“Tetsu,” You whisper against his back. He cringes when you leave a kiss on his spine. He doesn’t know how you can stand to be in the same room as him after what he’d done, but he doesn’t complain because the feeling of your body pressed against his is doing wonders for his brain. 

He watches from where his head is bent as your hands disappear and then reappear with the pink loofa. You begin to scrub his body and he sighs, letting the tension melt from his shoulders. He watches you switch the water to warm and closes his eyes and lets you take care of him. You wash his legs and back and arms and pepper kisses where you can reach. Kuroo’s skin erupts in goosebumps whenever he feels the soft mound of your breasts rub against him. 

“Turn around Tetsu,” You mumble into his shoulder blade. “Wanna wash your hair.”

He obliges, he turns and bends his head so that you can reach, his eyes are still closed and when you begin to massage his scalp gently, he can’t help the little groans that escape him. His palms slide up to your waist where he squeezes appreciatively. You take your time massaging the shampoo into his scalp until his head is drooped so low that you can leave kisses on his forehead. 

“I love you,” You remind him as you turn him back around and move to his side to wash the shampoo out. You stay that way when you massage the conditioner in and rinse that out too. You step away from him then and he leans his forehead back to the wall while you wash. 

He jumps when you wrap your arms around him again. Palms flat as they roam the expanse of his stomach. One ventures up to his nipples and Kuroo’s eyes snap open.

“What ar-”

“I said,” You say as your hand wraps around his dick where it hangs between his legs. “I love you. Did you not hear me?” You give a single slow stroke sliding your hand from his base to the tip and Kuroo hisses. 

“I love you too, baby,” He answers. “You don’t have to-”

“Hush,” You give a harsh squeeze, and Kuroo yelps. “Let me take care of you.” 

You leave bite marks against his back as you coax him to fullness. He’s pulsing in your hands by the time you’re satisfied that you’ve teased him enough. “I don’t know what happened today,” your strokes get faster and you feel his stomach cave against your forearm. He’s moaning your name, whimpering pleas, you don’t know for what but it’s always empowering watching your big, strong, demigod husband- _who can make other demigods want to kill each other_ -be reduced to this when you take charge. “But since when does Daishou destroy your self-control?”

Kuroo can’t answer. The slick sounds of your hand sliding along his length are distracting and the way you know just how to stroke him to drive him crazy makes his knees a little weak. You stop abruptly and Kuroo slumps against the wall. 

“Why…why’d you stop?” He slurs.

“You’re not paying attention,” You quip, and your palm splays out in the middle of his chest to pull him upright and into your chest. He’s so much taller and wider than you, he dwarfs you on all fronts but, you know he’s putty in your hands from here on out. “Answer my questions and you’ll get to cum. ‘kay?”

Kuroo swallows, you rarely ever become like this, so he doesn’t complain when your palms roam across his chest and pinch at his nipples before working their way downward. “What…what was the question?”

He watches the tip of one finger graze up his thigh and skirt around his erection where it’s bobbing, the head his red and angry and weeping precum onto his thigh and the tiled floor.

“Daishou,” You respond, and you wrap your hand around the base of his cock and his balls. They’re heavy and you have to rub your thighs together as you imagine him emptying them into you. “Since when does he rile you up like this?”

You squeeze gently and Kuroo’s breath comes out ragged when he answers. “‘M sorry, he’s never said things like that-” he moans brokenly when you twirl your wrist, “- _fuuuck, ba_ -” you let go again and Kuroo’s entire form tremors.

“He was trying to make them disgusted by you,” He whimpers out and he feels you still entirely behind him.

“Oh, baby,” You sink your forehead to his back and move your palms to his waist, you drag them up his sides and then back down to wrap both hands around his cock. You don’t give him time to adjust, you stroke him fast, squeezing in intervals until he’s throbbing in your hand, bucking his hips to the time of your strokes.

“Gonna cum,” He groans.

“Yeah?” You whisper as you pepper open-mouthed kisses across his muscles, licking at the stray droplets of water escaping down his form. “You think you should cum?”

He whimpers in reply, and you let go. “No, no, no, no, no, Kitt- plea-” 

“You can cum after I do,” You interrupt. You step away and watch as he turns on unsteady legs and backs you up into the wall. He kisses you frantically, your arms wrap around his neck when he bends to grasp the back of your thighs and lifts you. He presses you into the wall and adjusts his hold so that your knees are bent over his forearms. When you break for air one of your hands drifts to the space between your bodies so you can line the head of his cock up with your entrance.

Kuroo waits. He doesn’t have permission to enter. You wiggle your hips against him, and he shoves his face into the crook of your neck to inhale your body wash. You smell like coconut and pineapple and the scent permeates his mind, fogging it up until all he can think about is you and your soft skin, and gentle touches. Your cunt that’s dripping slick onto the head of his dick.

“Go ahead, baby,” You run your fingers up the back of his neck to tangle in the damp hair there. You pull his head back so that your mouth hovers right next to his ear. “Fuck me.” You demand.

Kuroo buries himself in your cunt in one single thrust that has you both moaning in unison. Your lips part as he starts a punishing pace. The wet sound of his skin slapping against yours echoes through the bathroom. The way his movements push you higher up the wall forces you to stretch one hand out to brace yourself on the fogged glass of the shower. 

“You’re so wet, Kitten,” Kuroo gasps into your neck and you have to blink up at the showerhead over his shoulder to stop yourself from cumming just from his voice. “‘M not gonna last.” 

Kuroo can barely hear your response over the pounding of his heart, the roaring of his blood in his ears, the slapping of his balls against your ass. His stomach tightens and he knows he’s close. Your pussy’s so wet and tight and your walls are so soft as they massage his dick. Every flutter of the muscles around his shaft leaves a trail of goosebumps from his neck to his stomach. Gods, he loved you so much, and the way you were whining into the bathroom air was making it really hard to wait for you.

“Tetsu!” You squeal into his ear when he gives a particularly hard thrust that forces the head of his cock to graze at the entrance to your cervix. He shifts, pulling you away from the wall and you scramble to wrap both hands around his neck. His palms spread out across your ass cheeks, so he has a firmer grip on you.

Kuroo pulls back from your neck to kiss you, it’s sloppy and when he pulls out so that just the head remains and slams back into you roughly, your mouth falls open. You can’t kiss back, too busy trying to get air into your lungs so Kuroo sucks at your bottom lip until it's bruised, red, and raw, swollen and tender. 

“Please,” He begs. “Please cum, I-” Your cunt has started to cream around him, the sounds of your fucking get louder, wetter. “I…I can’t, please I wanna cum.” Kuroo begs so prettily, hazel eyes half-lidded and unfocused as he slurs his words against your lips. “Please, baby, feel so good, please cum.” You’re both too absorbed by the pleasure to even kiss so you’re stuck panting against each other’s open mouths, exchanging breaths.

“Oh, fuck,” Your grip on his hair tightens. “Fuck, Te-”

The way Kuroo is effortlessly bouncing you on his cock while standing on the slippery bathroom tile has you lightheaded, something about this strong man begging you to cum makes your head spin. His thrusts become sloppy and fast, and the angle is so deep that every single thrust has his cock kissing your cervix. The pain to pleasure ratio is perfect and you don’t even know when your orgasm starts but Kuroo’s sobbed thank you against your neck as he buries himself to the hilt and fills you, makes you twitch, your contracting cunt forcing his cock and cum out of you.

Kuroo waits until you’re done quivering in his arms before sets you down gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you slump into his chest. He reaches behind him to start the shower again and this time he cleans you both up. When you’re dressed in one of his shirts you wrap a towel around your hair and pad into the kitchen, to start dinner and leave him in the bathroom, in just his shorts.

“Tetsuro,” Kuroo jumps at the gruff voice. “Oh, stop it, you should have expected me.” Kuroo’s eyes narrow when he turns to the mirror and takes in Ares’ relaxed form. He’s sprawled out on an honest-to-gods throne- he’s surrounded by darkness but Kuroo recognizes the room as the god’s “office”. He looks completely out of place in his red, God of War x Kodzuken custom hoodie and black sweats. He’s wearing one side of his wireless earphone and grinning at his son. 

“How long have you been listening?” Kuroo sighs.

“Just got here, actually,” Ares admits. “Did I miss something?”

“Nope,” Kuroo replies. “You need anything? My wife is maki-”

“What happened today?” Ares stands from his ostentatious seat. He shoves his hands into the pocket of his sweats and Kuroo frowns at the way his body language reflects Kenma’s. “There was a surge of Bloodlust in the middle of Tokyo,” He steps toward the mirror and Kuroo flattens his palm on the marble surface of the counter and bows his head. “I’m not complaining, it was delicious, haven’t felt anything that powerful since…World War I maybe…but it was still a cause for concern considering Tokyo’s not in shambles.”

“Daishou Suguru,” Kuroo snarls the name and he doesn’t see the way Ares grins madly at his bent form. “He’s my wife’s ex, used to abuse her…among other things…”

“Euryale’s descendant?” Ares questions, his grin vanishes when Kuroo’s head straightens up to look at him. “Gorgons are a pain to deal with.”

“Only the immortal ones,” Kuroo points out. 

“He’s only half Gorgon though, isn’t he?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, is he actually immortal?” Ares presses. 

“The council doesn’t want to find out. Because what if he’s not? I imagine angering a Gorgon in this Century may create issues,” Kuroo says. “We don’t have heroes bred for murdering Greek monsters like the Ancient Greeks did.”

“Yes, we do,” Ares says, he’s standing closer to his looking glass and Kuroo’s head snaps to him. They lock eyes and Kuroo’s mind begins to race. Ares’ grin is disarming and Kuroo would know it anywhere, he’d seen it in this exact mirror more than once. It was the same one he wore to investment meetings. The kind that hid mal intent.

“What?” Ares’ phone sounds and he pulls it out and sighs at the screen. 

“Kenma’s streaming Red Dead,” He frowns. 

“Ares,” Kuroo intones. “What’d you mean yes we do? You’re not talking about us, are you?”

“Let me ask you a question, Tetsuro,” He says and Kuroo can already feel that he’s going to hate this entire conversation. “When you have an itch, what do you do?”

“You scratch it.”

“Right, right,” Ares nods his head. “What does, having an itch feel like?”

“What?” 

“What does, having an itch feel like?” He repeats.

“I dunno, it’s annoying, I guess.”

“Right, again,” Ares says, and he spins on his heel. The back of his hoodie sports Kenma’s logo with a spear running horizontally through it and a golden helmet rests at the top. It’s a decent design, most of the proceeds had been donated to charity, things Ares was not aware of.

The god’s dark hair is tied into a loose ponytail at the base of his neck. “Itches can be annoying. My biggest itch was Aphrodite’s husband,” he muses, he turns back to Kuroo contemplatively. He runs one hand along the stubble that has collected along his jaw. 

“Your biggest itch is actually your fucking dick,” Kuroo corrects. “I wish someone would’ve chopped it off a long time ago.”

“Oi, leave my dick out of this,” Ares squawks. 

“Oh? But maybe it’s been someone else’s itch,” Kuroo amends. “Like, Zeus’…but what do I know?”

Ares glares at his son, who’s wearing his signature smirk. “You’re missing the point,” He murmurs. 

“What _is_ the point, Ares?” His annoyance is clear even to himself. “What is the point?”

“Your biggest itch is Daishou Suguru, and you have the means to deal with him.”

“What means? I can’t just ki-”

“But you can try…” Ares singsongs. “If you really can’t kill him and he reports you to the council I’ll take the blame.”

Kuroo thinks about having to face the heads of each Bloodline and he balks, some of them were his friends sure, but there was no bias or favoritism when they took their seat at the table. He’d know, he was a part of it, the firstborn of the God of Slaughter and Cowardice, there were no perks to his birthright except that the title usually struck fear into lesser beings.

If Daishou reported him he was screwed. He considers that Iwaizumi, Ushijima, and Bokuto were present when Daishou had goaded him and that Daichi had seen the end result but, he also considers that while he may be able to sway Iwaizumi and Daichi to his side, Ushijima Wakatoshi was an immovable force and Kita Shinsuke was much worse. Bokuto was a given, granted Athena would be…upset but, she’d forgive him if he begged enough.

“Let’s say you leave this itch unscratched,” Ares interrupts Kuroo’s train of thought and Kuroo tilts his head to regard him. “What if goading you into losing control of your power…which is destructive as fuck mind you-” Kuroo needs to have a discussion with Lev about the kind of shit Ares says, “-isn’t the worst he can do?”

Kuroo freezes. “What?”

“He’s doing this…because he wants your wife back,” Ares taps his finger against the looking glass and Kuroo watches as his mirror ripples like someone has tossed a rock into a calm pond and disrupted the surface. “What if goading isn’t the furthest, he’s willing to go?”

“I don’t know why we’re having this conversation,” Kuroo straightens from the marble countertop and chuckles at his father’s frown. “Daichi’ll find him and then he’ll have to answer for sneaking onto the property and breaching the conditions of the restraining order.”

“They won’t find him,” Ares warns. “Or if they do, it’ll be too late.” His relaxed demeanor evaporates and Kuroo can’t help but admire that despite his shortcomings and his bad attitude, he was still a formidable god, worthy of respect. “The thread is always open Tetsuro, you just have to tug hard enough to get my attention and I’ll give you any help you want.”

“What happens when the Olympians find out?” 

“They can all, fuck off,” Ares booms. “Make no mistake, if I have to choose between my children and those old fuckers, I’ll choose my offspring.”

Kuroo’s mind translates this too, _‘I’ll actually vanish for an extended period of time and hope that I am forgiven by the time I return’._ He inclines his head because Ares knows, that Kuroo knows, that Ares is a coward; unless people are being mass murdered, of course.

“If, and this is a big _if,_ I ever need your help with…testing the limits of Daishou’s mortality,” Kuroo grunts. “You’ll be the-” he takes a second to count the number of people he’ll have to tell something like that before continuing, “-fourth to know.”

Ares smiles and it’s not the kind of smile a father should ever give his son but, Kuroo will take the slanted smirk on the man’s face as confirmation of his understanding for now.

“Great talk!” Ares exclaims and then Kuroo blinks and he’s staring at his reflection once more.

The incident passes by and Kuroo deigns to admit that Ares was right, they don’t find Daishou. The security guards are found knocked out in the surveillance room. Their blood tests return positive for snake venom; Daishou’s in deep shit. Kai is investigated for being responsible for letting him in and explains that he lost his key card the week before. Daichi and Kuroo are suspicious but Kai is put on two weeks leave from the workplace and not fired outright. The boys come over at some point to show Kuroo that they don’t hate him. Even Sakusa shows up with an absurdly expensive bottle of wine and manages to mingle with his teammates, albeit a little reluctantly. You figure they must have apologized to each other by the way Aran and Bokuto do shots together and then pass out on the floor propped against each other at the end of the night. 

Atsumu returns to calling Sakusa ‘Omi-Kun and Hinata and Kageyama make a show of trying to beat each other in arm wrestling. Ushijima sits awkwardly on the couch and observes. Kuroo watches from his kitchen next to Iwaizumi as Morisuke apologizes to his wife for something and she pulls him into a tight hug that has Morisuke’s eyes widening. He sighs through his nose and Iwaizumi chuckles next to him. This is why there hasn’t been hostility amongst the Bloodlines in a very long time, because of their resilience. He thinks their donors would have killed each other if they were put in the same situations.

All is well, Kuroo thinks until it isn’t.

He gets home from work on a Wednesday afternoon, fully expecting to find you already home, dancing to music and prepping for dinner. It’s four months later, Daishou’s existence has been buried under the blissful peace of his work and his wife and the ever-present need to make her happy.

Instead, he finds his house, trashed.

The furniture is broken, the lights have been torn from the ceiling and are strewn across his living room floor and kitchen counter, the back wall is gaping, and he can see through to the back, the porch is destroyed, the large slabs of wood are littered across his backyard. The glass in the back door has been broken and there’s a crowbar on the floor next to it. He’s frozen in the doorway mind unable to comprehend what he’s seeing. He can’t see any blood from where he is and it’s this thought that has him moving robotically up the stairs to the bedrooms.

They’re also destroyed. The guest bedrooms have been ransacked, the bedding and mattresses shredded, the bed frames broken, the closet doors torn off their hinges; Kuroo is dumbstruck.

He moves into the master bedroom and the scent of piss hits him square in the face making him gag. It’s potent almost like it’s been sitting out in the sun. He puts a palm over his nose in an effort to block it. He sees that your bag is here, and your clothes are in the hamper which means you were home when this happened and that freezes every cell in Kuroo’s body. He’s dialing Kenma’s number before he can even register it, he says words he’s not sure what they are but Kenma is shouting something into the little speaker. Kuroo makes the mistake of turning to step into your shared bathroom and the phone slips from his grip when the mirror comes into view.

_**She was mine first.** _

It’s scrawled in his wife’s red lipstick and spans the length of the mirror which takes up half of that wall. It’s not Daishou’s handwriting though and that throws Kuroo off because he recognizes it, the dramatic curling of the S and the backward F, it’s Kai’s.

Kuroo slams his fist into the glass breaking the entirety of it. It scatters into pieces along the countertop and Kuroo straightens. If Kai and Daishou were working together? They were both dead men. Fuck, the council.

***********************************

Kenma Kozume is lazy. 

But he’s athletic, proven by the way he doesn’t bother with his car when Kuroo calls him. Granted it’s a five-minute drive from his apartment to Kuroo’s house, which is only a thirty-to-forty-five-minute walk. Kenma reasons that at his top running speed he’ll be there in fifteen minutes. From the sound of Kuroo’s voice, Kenma doesn’t have long before someone ends up dead.

“He has her,” Is the only thing Kenma hears before he’s running, the phone still clutched to his ear, no shoes on his feet, dressed only in a hoodie, shorts, and mismatched socks. He hears the shattering of glass and picks up speed, Kuroo’s front door comes into view and Kenma barely makes it into the house before his lungs punish him for the overexertion. He takes in the state of the bottom floor and his jaw drops.

“Kuroo!” He calls out and leaves his phone on the broken kitchen island to venture up the stairs. Picture frames litter them, the pictures have been ripped or defiled and left there to be found. Kuroo’s head is missing in most. He follows the sound of running water and steps into Kuroo’s bedroom. The scent greets him first and His stomach heaves, it smells like hot piss. He turns to the master bed and takes note of the giant yellow stain in the center of the comforter. Kenma feels unease settle at the base of his spine. 

“Kuroo?” He turns to the bathroom and falters. Kuroo is dressed in dark cargo pants, tucked into lace boots, he’s wearing a dark armless turtleneck, and strapped to his spine are two scabbards. They form an ex where they’re crisscrossed. Kenma recognizes the twin handles immediately and he takes a step back when Kuroo turns to him. “I-”

“You’re going to help me,” Kuroo announces and Kenma moves to shake his head when a single red spider lily forms out of thin air, at eye level with him. “You can do it willingly Kozume, or I will make you.” The glow of Ares’ helmet in Kuroo’s eye glints hauntingly at Kenma so, he swallows and nods his understanding. 

Maybe, he could stop Kuroo, maybe even get Bokuto or the council to intervene but, all it would take was a few of Kuroo’s stupid spider lilies and then Tokyo would have a small army of Demigods going around wreaking havoc. Kenma decides he could do the least damage under Kuroo’s Bloodlust. He’d just be smarter than usual, maybe more accurate with a sniper rifle, maybe more precise with a sword. Other than that, he wouldn’t exactly be the menace to society Bokuto Koutaro’s hulking form could become under the influence.

So, he settles for the lesser of two evils, himself.

Kuroo regards him for a moment before the spider lily evaporates.

“You have shoes in the guest room closet, put them on,” Kuroo instructs, and the slightly deepened version grates against Kenma’s nerves. He does as he’s told, Kuroo a shadow over his shoulder at all times. “Let’s go.”

Kenma stops him. “How am I supposed to help you unarmed?”

“I just need your brain, Pudding Head,” Kuroo pats him on the head like he’s a child and not a fully grown adult. “Get me to Daishou Suguru, and I’ll handle the rest.”

Nothing is endearing about the way Kuroo calls him Pudding Head anymore, Kenma’s mind gets to work immediately. They move into the garage and Kenma waits with bated breath as Kuroo uncovers a sleek, black Maserati. He pulls open the passenger side door and motions for Kenma to get in. Kuroo climbs in afterward and when he starts the car and the engine purrs to life under Kenma, he sighs. 

“Where am I going Kozume?”

Kenma blinks. He knows no one had considered the relation between Kai Armato and Daishou Suguru seriously, and he’d never brought it up because it wasn’t his place but, they were likely working together. It was blatantly obvious that the man was in love with Kuroo from the very start, borderline obsessed. Kenma had pointed out from the start that making Kai privy to Kuroo’s personal information would be an issue. Naturally, Kuroo didn’t listen. If Kai helped Daishou get you, then Kai would have Kuroo for himself…at least, that’s what Kenma was getting from this.

“Kai’s apartment,” Kenma answers, and he’s surprised when all Kuroo does is lift the garage doors and pull the car onto the street. 

“Kai’s part Gorgon,” Kuroo growls. “I should’ve known, I should’ve listened to you-” he gulps, “-to her.”

Kenma doesn’t respond, just stares at the side of Kuroo’s head. “What are the Katana’s for?”

“I’m going to kill them.”

The finality in his tone scares Kenma. He’s actually, never seen Kuroo this mad. He can see the Bloodlust pressing against the underside of the skin, the flowers are pushing to the surface, leaving their outline clear as ever. Kuroo swallows and Kenma watches the outline of a spider lily press up against the skin of his throat. He shivers, he doesn’t know what type of self-control mechanisms Kuroo has adopted to be able to keep his Bloodlust this obedient but, he’s grateful for it.

“Okay,” He mumbles.

The rest of the ride is silent, save for the Maserati’s engine. When Kuroo pulls into the parking lot of Kai’s building he turns to Kenma. “If I can’t kill Daishou-” he says, “-then Daishou will kill me.” 

Kenma’s brain grinds to a halt. “What the fuck?”

“You know this Kozume.”

“I-” Kenma scrambles to find words. “You- Death? Really? You’re choosing to possibly die?” Kenma is bewildered by the calmness with which Kuroo simply nods his response, yes. Yes, he would gladly die. “Fuck you, Kuroo.”

“Wh-”

“I get it,” Kenma admits. “You have no idea what Daishou could be doing to your wife,” Kenma gulps. “But what happens to us when you die?”

Kuroo turns iridescent eyes on his younger brother then and his features soften. “I think they’re in good hands,” He smiles.

Kenma blinks dumbly at him. “What?”

“Great!” He unbuckles his seat belt. “Give me fifteen minutes,” Kuroo says. “Before you call anyone.”

Kenma glares at him. “Get out of the fucking car, you selfish piece of shit.”

Kuroo pauses and several of the spider lilies break free from his skin. Kenma shuffles back into the door on instinct. “If I don’t survive this you have to take care of my wife.” The flowers vanish when Kenma nods. “I’ll be watching from The Underworld, I’ll know Kozume.”

“Don’t die then,” Kenma asserts. “If you can’t kill him, run, if it’s one thing Ares has taught us it’s about the tactical retreat.” He frowns when the helmet glows brighter. 

“Fifteen minutes,” Kuroo says finally and Kenma stays rooted to his seat as he watches Kuroo approach the front doors. The red handle of the Katanas twinkling hauntingly at his back.

“Stupid,” He tuts. “Stupid, Kuroo.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket where Akaashi Keiji was on the other line. He’d heard the entire interaction. “Are you close? This is about to be a shitshow.”

******************************

“Do you still not like coffee?” Daishou asks you. He’s sitting on the counter, legs dangling in front of him like a child while he sips on a steaming cup himself. You’re sitting on the floor of the kitchen with your wrists tied behind your back and your ankles and thighs tied together. You can’t respond because Kai had stuffed one of Kuroo’s socks in your mouth before they’d dragged you out of the house. He’d also grabbed half your husband’s work shirts still on their hangers. They were spread across the back of his couch and over his coffee table. His obsession had shown in the way he’d been reluctant to destroy some of the things in your home and had instead snuck them into his pockets.

What a waste of time and effort you think. 

Daishou had snapped Kai’s neck the second they’d crossed the threshold to his apartment. 

“Forgive me, little cousin,” He’d whispered.

The sound of the tendons popping and the crunch of bone protesting under the pressure had made you dizzy. You’d known that he was crazy but the way he’d left Kai’s body near the front door and went about as though he hadn’t just killed him made you sick. Bile had settled in the back of your throat and you’d decided that this was going to end badly regardless.

“I asked you a question,” He hisses and the forked tongue that slips out of his mouth makes you whimper. You shake your head. “Well alright, but we do need to get something in your system before the flight.”

The way Daishou speaks as though he’s confident he’ll get you on this plane without any issues makes your heart speed up. He slips off the counter and pulls open Kai’s fridge. It’s surprisingly well-stocked from what you can see.

“You think Kuroo’s home yet?” Daishou hums as he pulls fruits from the fridge. “You think he likes the little message we left baby?”

The way Daishou can no longer pronounce his s’ without hissing forces your eyes closed. It’s annoying and it makes you want to spit in his face even more.

“Anyway, we worked really hard,” Daishou continues. He pulls the blender close and washes the fruit. “Took us about a week to kill the especially nosey neighbors.”

Your eyes widen. You have two neighbors that check up on your house often, not because the alarm system has ever failed you, but because they were genuinely nice people, and also knew who Kuroo really was. The idea of Nekomata being murdered because of you results in goosebumps erupting along our arms, your eyes well with tears.

“Washijo was hard as fuck to deal with,” Daishou adds. He pops the fruit into the blender, and you watch in disgust as he purses his lips, and a wad of spit drops from them into it. He lifts the corner of his t-shirt so you can see a slowly healing cut that starts at his hip and moves to the top of his rib cage. “Left me a nasty cut before I could put him down.”

You don’t even hear Daishou’s explanation. Your mind has zeroed in on the glob of saliva Daishou’s just blended into a smoothie with your favorite fruits. You’re hyper-fixated on the potential feeling of euphoria that’s headed your way as Daishou squats to pull the sock out of your mouth.

“You missed it huh?” He chuckles as your lips part. “Miss me?”

You’d been introduced to the wild side of the world when you first met Daishou; he was perfect. The right amount of wrong. Of course, back then you didn’t know he was half Gorgon and had been slowly feeding you his venom. Getting you slowly addicted. Within six months of the beginning of your relationship, Daishou had you literally wrapped around his little finger. He’d forced you to leave your job, convinced you that your friends were trash, even coerced you into dropping your family. Daishou became your everything. Your every waking moment was spent wrapped in his arms, spending the money he made for you both, eating what he cooked for you, doing as he asked. You were his pet. 

It was love, you thought when he declared you couldn’t leave the house to go shopping on your own. He was just possessive, you thought when he’d leave you littered in bite marks that bled. It won’t happen again, you reasoned, when he’d left you with a black eye and fractured jaw, he’d apologized after all. You were just tired, you assumed when you’d get dizzy after not seeing Daishou for long. 

You’d met Dr. Shirabu Kenjiro then. Daishou had brought you to his clinic without doing his customary background check, it was the closest and he’d been so shaken up by his own actions that he’d panicked, and it was ultimately his downfall. Dr. Shirabu had taken one look at your broken body and dilated pupils and you’d been out of Daishou’s hands within the week. You’d been introduced to the Council of Twelve. The representatives of the gods. _The Greek gods_. The ones that weren’t supposed to exist.

You’d been asked to stand trial against him. Of course, due to the delicacy of the situation and your questionable mental health only Ushijima, Daichi, Iwaizumi and Kita were privy to your statement. Only they knew what Daishou really put you through. It had technically been a failure because of Daishou’s parentage. However, a restraining order came out of it, and at the end of the trial, Daishou wasn’t even supposed to be in the same country as you. 

Shirabu had weaned you off Daishou’s venom over an excruciating year, in which you’d fallen in love with Kuroo Tetsuro and made some amazing, supportive friends. You’d even attended an honest-to-gods themed birthday party and met volleyball’s sweetheart, Oikawa Tooru.

Granted you growing attached was a poor decision because after your treatment was up and you were deemed healthy, you’d likely be wiped but, that didn’t stop you. The decision to not have you wiped at the end of your treatment was voted on among the council and Kuroo had been the first to burst through the doors when the results were tallied. He’d kissed you on the mouth in the presence of everyone…it was the actual start of your journey together.

Daishou moves the glass to your lips and just as he begins to tilt it toward you, the scent of wisteria floods the apartment. You gag immediately and Daishou’s head snaps toward the door. He doesn’t move away from you, but the wisteria snaps you out of your daze and you clamp your jaw shut. Daishou turns back to you and the rippling of scales across his cheek makes your entire form quake.

“Open up bitch,” He grabs you by the face and you begin to struggle against his grip. He squeezes your jaw, and you gasp at the pain. He uses this opportunity to empty the glass into your mouth but, it’s too much and you’re forced to swallow so you don’t choke, while the rest slides down your chin and chest. “Good girl,” He coos and slaps you lightly on the face.

The effect is immediate. Your mind narrows to Daishou and his commands. He rips the ties from your wrists and legs and pulls you to a standing position just as the door is kicked in. 

The vague scent of wisteria lingers in the back of your mind but, Daishou. Daishou’s here now, it’s been so long, he’s left you for so long. Now, he’s back and you’re not letting him go no matter what. You don’t even turn to see who’s trying to interrupt your reunion. Too busy tracing the emerald scales that have erupted across Daishou’s cheek. They’re beautiful, he’s beautiful. He’s grinning deviously at the newcomer as he slips an arm around your waist. His skin is rough, and it makes you lightheaded when you glance down and notice the scattering of scales there also.

“Well, you rooster-haired bastard,” Daishou hisses. “She’s back where she belongs.” He leans down to kiss you on the forehead, and you giggle. “Right doll?”

You nod, eyes still not moving from Daishou.

“Kitten?” The voice is familiar, and the scent of wisteria spikes when you turn your empty gaze on the man standing in the doorway. His entire form is glowing, it’s angry and red and flowers are swiveling vexedly about him. He’s holding Katanas in both hands. The blades are…black? “What have you done, Suguru?”

“She’s missed me, Kuroo,” Daishou grins. “What’re you gonna do with those?” He motions to the twin blades and scoffs. You can feel his heartbeat speed up under your palm as he continues. “You can’t kill me.”

“I can try,” the man _-Kuroo-_ asserts. He crouches, spinning one Katana to hold horizontally across his chest. “Did you feed her your disgusting venom?”

Daishou’s eyes narrow at Kuroo’s crouched form. “You wanna fight me with her here?”

“She’ll forgive me,” The man answers, and you cock your head at him. “Right, Kitten?”

You find even in your Daishou swamped brain, you have to answer this man. “Yes.”

Daishou tenses next to you and he moves before you register it. His scale-covered hand wraps around your throat and tightens hard. “You don’t answer to him,” He growls, his tongue snaps out and you watched from your peripheral as the forked muscle drags up the side of your face. “Mine.”

You try to gasp, and your eyes widen when you realize you can’t get air into your lungs. The feeling doesn’t last long. There’s a whistling sound and the blurring movement of blades before Daishou’s arm is sliced from his body and your knees give out. 

“Run,” Kuroo rasps. “Please, Kitten, I need you to run.” He’s standing between you and Daishou, who hasn’t made a sound although he’s lost a limb. The shock from being choked has given your brain a second to register Kuroo as your husband.

“Doll,” Daishou hisses. “Don’t move.” Your brain reverts. 

“Okay,” You rasp and sink to your ass fully, to stay put like he asked. Your eye catches on the blood that’s stained Kuroo’s blade as it slides down the tip and drops into a small puddle on the floor.

“I’m gonna fucking kil-” Kuroo pauses and you only get a glimpse of a blinking golden light through the window behind Daishou before Kuroo ducks. He turns to cover you with his entire body, so you don’t see the golden spear as it passes cleanly through the glass, it doesn’t shatter it and that’s how Kuroo knows reinforcements have arrived early. His arms are wrapped around your head, covering your ears so you don’t hear the singing sound it makes or the gurgle of Daishou trying to breathe around it. It’s lodged into his chest and the head has passed clean through so that he’s properly impaled. He slumps forward on his knees and Kuroo pulls away to turn to him.

Kuroo doesn’t know what effect his Bloodlust will have on you while Daishou’s venom is circulating but, he can’t have you conscious for what happens next. He pulls back gently and from his palm that cups your cheek he lets a few spider lilies penetrate your skin. He watches your eyelids flutter shut and he catches you as you’re knocked unconscious. He looks from the window to the roof of the building next door as Bokuto Koutaro jumps excitedly at successfully reaching his target. Akaashi Keiji appears in the apartment doorway and scowls at Daishou, who’s entire arm has grown back and is trying to remove Athena’s spear. He’s trying to heal the gaping wound in his chest but, the spear is in the way. 

His skin is rippling wildly, switching between his pale complexion and his dark green scales. 

“Take her,” Kuroo stands leaving the Katana’s on the floor and handing your unconscious form to Akaashi’s open arms. “Daishou’s ven-”

“Kenma’s already called Shirabu,” Akaashi interrupts. “And Daichi,” Kuroo thinks sometimes that Kenma could have really been Athena’s Blessed, “You can absolutely try to kill Daishou and get away scot-free,” Akaashi says, “Or you can wait for explicit permission from the council.” 

“No more waiting,” Kuroo scoffs. “Get out of here.”

He waits until Akaashi’s out of sight before he turns to a half morphed Daishou. His lower body has completely shifted so that in place of legs, he’s a giant green snake. His tail coils tightly around the spear as he tries to move it out of the ground.

Kuroo tsks. “Snake-Chan,” He singsongs. Daishou’s form stills. “You’re not getting away from that anytime soon.”

Kuroo picks up one Katana and points it at Daishou. “Your dad’s…human right?” Kuroo knows the answer he’s seen Daishou’s file. He drags a dining chair from the kitchen to sit in front of the…Gorgon. Daishou hisses, tongue sliding out as venom spits from his gums. 

“The council should have never let you go,” Kuroo decides. Daishou’s tails lift from the spear where his weight has dragged him down further and Kuroo’s hand swivels as he cuts through the thick muscle. The piece of tails lands with a slap to the wooden floors and Kuroo swings the Katana out to shake off the blood. “Well,” Kuroo continues when the tail grows back. “I have time today. If we can’t kill you Daishou, Kita will drag you down to the Underworld kicking and screaming.” He smirks and he watches the scales vanish for long enough that Daishou… _ **begs**_. 

Daishou Suguru looks up at Kuroo, who hasn’t even started on him, and begs. “Please, I won’t…I won’t come back,” He sobs pathetically and Kuroo’s heart soars.

“Could it be, Snakey-Chan,” Kuroo mocks. “That you’re not the big bad immortal that you’ve advertised yourself as?” He tips Daishou’s head up with the end of one blade and turns it downward. He glances behind Daishou out the window and notes Bokuto’s absence.

Kuroo takes his time as he drags the Katana down from the base of Daishou’s throat to the middle of his chest. The cut is shallow and only a little blood is produced. Kuroo ignores Daishou’s protests and chuckles when he grabs at the blade. Kuroo jerks his hand back so that the fingers are sliced off. He moves the blade to the healed base of Daishou’s throat and presses it firmer, but he doesn’t drag it down this time.

He sinks it in, the tip makes a wet sound as it pierces Daishou’s flesh completely and the Gorgon screams. It’s shrill and deafening and Kuroo feels the Bloodlust claw at the inside of his skin at the pain, the fear exuding from Daishou. It’s delicious.

“Keep screaming, Snake-Chan,” He coos. “We love to hear it.”

Unfortunately, the blade slices through Daishou’s vocal cords and Kuroo finds that he is not satisfied with the gurgling sounds that he’s making. So, he withdraws the sword and grimaces when blood flows from the wound. He sits back in the chair and waits for them to stitch themselves back together. Kuroo reaches for his other katana, and when Daishou inhales sharply he looks up in time to see him slump further down the spear. Kuroo reckons that his immortality was definitely a bluff but, anything other than survive having its esophagus torn through is close enough to unkillable.

“Will your head grow back?” He ponders out loud. “If I cut it off…will it grow back?” 

He taps the katana on Daishou’s shoulder where his head is bent. His hair is damp from sweating and there’s a thick, dark puddle of blood at his knees. He’s naked from the waist down where his pants were ripped from the transformation. “You still with me?”

Daishou grunts and Kuroo grins. “Well?” He nudges his shoulder a little too aggressively and the katana penetrates the flesh. Daishou wails and the Bloodlust snaps out of Kuroo, curling along the blade in a string of red spider lilies until it’s absorbed into Daishou, who begins to trash immediately. His head shoots up and Kuroo watches him snarl, he’s trying to move toward Kuroo but is instead shoving himself deeper onto the spear. Kuroo is impressed that he hasn’t blacked out from the pain. 

Daishou’s obviously reverted to his baser instincts. He’s spitting and hissing, swollen fangs glinting dangerously in the light. Kuroo is satisfied that he’s managed to make Daishou mindless. His fear is still palpable in the air and as much as Kuroo loves it, an image of your glassy eyes staring up at Daishou flashes in his mind and before he can even consider his actions, he presses the katana to the side of Daishou’s neck and tenses when the muscles caves under the sharp edge. The blade’s whistle is harmonic as it passes through the tendons and muscles and blood vessels.

The body stills and Kuroo watches the head roll to the side. He drops his katana and takes a deep breath. The rest would be for the council to deal with. For now, he has his wife to get back to.

\----------------------------------

When your eyes open, you’re on a hospital bed, drips connected to your hand and Kuroo is asleep in an armchair next to you. You recognize the room as one from Shirabu’s clinic. You’re in a hospital gown and you have no idea how you got here. You can’t seem to remember anything after Tuesday night. Kuroo’s eyes open to take you in.

“I killed him,” It’s the first thing he says, and you don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about but, the way he’s trying not to make eye contact with you scares you so bad that the beeping of the monitor speeds up. Kuroo must misinterpret your reaction and stands. “I’ll leave…”

“What?” You ask. “Why? Why would you leave?” You cough and Kuroo reaches for the glass of water near the bed to hand it to you. You take a sip and look up at him. “What happened Tetsu?”

Kuroo sits on the bed and takes your hands in his. “I killed Daishou,” He explains.

You blink at him and then you burst into a fit of giggles. “Gods, Tetsuro, I thought you killed someone important.”

“I really love you,” He sighs. He brings your knuckles up to his lips and leaves kisses across each one. “I never want to feel like that again or see you like that again,” He gulps. “It was like the trial all over again.”

“Oh.”

“He’s dead for real though,” Kuroo grins. “I’m pretty sure I’ll have to apologize to Kenma and Akaashi…and maybe Daichi for the mess I left…”

“They’ll forgive you,” You laugh. 

Kuroo sobers and leans forward to kiss you gently. “If something happened to you…” He trails off. “Something serious?” He shakes his head. “They’d have to put me down, Kitten.”

“Don’t sa-”

“Stop, Kitten,” He tucks some of your hair behind your ear. “I would kill, every single, motherfucker on this planet,” He pauses when your lips part in shock, “If anything like that happened again. Do you understand me?”

You’re too shocked to give a verbal response so you nod. 

“Good, now move around so I can sleep next to you,” He helps you shift around so that you’re laying curled up in his arms. “Do you not remember anything from the past two days?”

“No,” You admit.

“Gods,” He groans into the hospital air. “I wish I could say the same.”

“I’m here now though,” You snuggle deeper into his chest. “You don’t have to worry about the past two days because I’m here now.”

“Right,” Kuroo sighs. “You’re here now.”

“Mhm,” You smile against him. “And I love you…and I’m okay with your moral ambiguity.”

Kuroo barks his annoying laugh and you roll your eyes at the sound. “Is that your way of saying you think me killing people is hot?”

“Shut up,” You mumble. “I’m tired.”

“Sleep well, Kitten,” He presses one final kiss to your forehead. “I love you, too.”

Hidden by the hospital blinds Ares sits in the reflective glass of the window, on his throne in a grey Kodzuken sweater, and grins into the still air of his office. 

“There’s nothing like the spilling of blood,” Ares chuckles. “To start a war.”

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who I'm writing next in the comments and you'll be my beta <3


End file.
